


If Someone Asks, This Is Where I'll Be

by clockworkrobots



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Men of Letters Headquarters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-24 01:03:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/933273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clockworkrobots/pseuds/clockworkrobots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like with many things about them, Dean's first attempt at a marriage proposal is both poignant and awkward. At least half it is Cas' fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Someone Asks, This Is Where I'll Be

Dean has the strangest thought as he wakes up that morning, one arm trapped beneath Cas' warm body, which had shifted in the night to lying half on top of him, face pressed into Dean's bare shoulder. That shoulder no longer holds Castiel's mark from long ago, but Castiel's drool is making a commendable effort of trying to make up for his absence on Dean's skin. He wakes up, blinking away the last blissful vestiges of sleep, and has the calm and clear thought that they should get married.

He has absolutely no idea where that thought comes from, as marriage had seldom ever crossed his mind before except to think " _so_ not for me", and though him and Cas have been going good for what must be a couple months now (and  _that_ thought sends a shiver of delight spiking through Dean's chest), they've hardly defined what the fuck they are even doing now as it is. Of course, whatever it is they're doing now--fucking, kissing, fooling around; _loving_ each other, if he dares to think--had been building up behind them for _years_ before they did anything about it. Dean has many regrets when it comes to him and Cas--broken hearts and broken trust have been somewhat par for the course in the Winchester lifestyle--but at the same time, he wonders if it's not something like a miracle that all their mistakes have ended them up here, waking up lazily in each other's arms.

That was all to say, Dean himself would've been the last person to imagine a thought like "we should get married" would ever enter his mind, but he never imagined he'd ever be even just _friends_ with someone like Cas either. So he has the thought in bed one morning, and strangely, he likes it.

He has absolutely no idea what to do with the thought, however, once he's had it. He should _tell_ Cas, obviously, since they've been trying that out these days, the _talking_ thing, and it's worked out pretty well. Certainly with some of the best sex Dean's had in his life, but it's also enabled those secret, tender moments when even just a touch to the back of his hand in comfort sends Dean reeling, and stuttering out a broken breath of " _Cas--_ " before his voice is swallowed in a kiss.

He feels like something like this has a _weight_ to it, akin to a heavy declaration of "I never thought I'd ever live to grow old but I'd really like to do it beside you," but he's totally lost as to how bring something like this up when it's not a deathbed declaration. So instead, he just blurts it out awkwardly over coffee. In its own way, it feels thematically appropriate for them.

Castiel blinks, only half finished his morning mug and therefore really only half awake. He takes a silent moment to process. "Why?" is the first thing he asks, somewhat tactlessly, not knowing to Dean's ears that sounds a good deal like a _"no"_.

But they're doing this talking thing nowadays, and so Dean ploughs on, needing to get his case out. "Because, well, it _makes sense_ , don't it?"

Cas frowns, trying to grapple onto Dean's line of thinking. "We've never been very traditional," he points out. "It even took you close to 6 years to even kiss me, and with your sexual history that speed was indeed unusual."

"No but, that's what I mean!" Dean exclaims, trying not to yell out of bubbling excitement. Sam _is_ still sleeping. "I'm not one to get _married_ , man, that was always Sam's story. But marriage kind of _is_ something unexpected and something new to me, just like... the rest of all this," he says, gesturing between them. 

 _Heh_ , he thinks, _marriage is kinda_ _something old and something new in itself_. He looks at Cas, who has his scrunchy, concentrating face on, the one Dean kind of finds adorable. Though his body once belonged to someone else, Dean like to think that that squinting face is all _Cas_.

_Something borrowed and something blue._

He likes to think that, years from now, the wrinkles on the same brow will be all Cas' own, and Dean's fingers will ache to trace them.

"It would provide a legal advantage to us," Cas agrees, ever the pragmatist. He nods, as if confirming some thought to himself. "Yes."

It takes Dean a second to realise he's saying "yes" to Dean's _first_ question, and though the small word sends a quick thrill down Dean's spine, it's deflated by Cas' unchanging, serious expression. "You don't sound super excited by the idea," Dean says warily.

Cas takes a final sip of his coffee, and sets the empty mug down on the wooden table between them. "Well, people do get married every day, Dean. It _is_ somewhat pedestrian."

Dean drags a hand down his face in exasperation. "Dude, you're making this the worst proposal ever! You just called it _boring!_ " Dean _had_ to just go and fall in love with an angel who was equal parts beautiful and a bastard.

"Well--" Cas begins, but Dean cuts him off by standing up, his chair squeaking abruptly against the kitchen tile.

"You know what, forget it," he says, resigned, moving to walk away. At least he _tried_. He'll also be better able to calm down from his annoying combination of embarrassment and frustration if he tries to do it away from Cas right now.

" _Dean,_ " Cas implores, and stops him before he can stalk away by touching his arm before he completely passes. Dean pauses, and Cas' hand drops.

"What?" he tries to sigh, but he's afraid it comes out pretty snappish.

"It didn't mean to say _you_ were boring, or being married to you would be boring," Cas says, standing up as well so that they're face to face, right in each other's space--a familiar position. "Only that very little would change for me, except for the legal ramifications."

It's Dean's turn to knot his brow, not following. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Cas' face is open and honest when he replies, "It means I love you whether some city office has a record of it or not. It means I've already chosen you, by every ounce of free will I have," so simply that all the words and wind in his lungs is knocked out of Dean like some physical body blow.

"Cas..." he manages to croak out, throat choked and chest tight. Sometimes the weight of Cas' love is too staggering to bear when he actually _looks_ at it. But paradoxically, he also wants to bask in its gaze forever.

"But I understand _you_ would like a record of it," Cas continues. "Practically speaking, but... perhaps sentimentally, too."

 _Sentimentally?_ Dean wants to protest, but something stops him. The word grates at Dean's macho cloak he still wears sometimes, but in recent years its fabric is ever fraying, and he wonders if he should not also extend his new practice of honesty with others, to honesty with himself. _Sentimental..._ Fuck it, over Cas, he _is_.

"Let's get married, Dean," Cas says softly, but firm, as if it makes all the sense in the world. It kinda does.

"Okay," Dean says roughly, hands now trailing up Cas' sides. They're both still in their makeshift pyjamas, old t-shirts and boxers, and Cas' hair's disarray frankly _exceeds_ the descriptive bounds of 'bed head'. Dean never thought he'd end up here, but _man_ , was it a good place to be. "Okay, yeah."

Cas takes this as an indication to begin making out with an alert enthusiasm, which wasn't _wholly_ what Dean expected (they have even _more_ to talk about, now, don't they?) but he's _so_ good to go with it anyway. What's great about basically having moved in with your maybe-soon-to-be-angel-husband is that Cas is eager to go pretty much any time, and here, in the seemingly endless expanse of the bunker's halls, they definitely have the space for it. (Of course, Sam would object to that notion, having walked in on far too many thing already that he'd rather erase from his brain.)

"Fuck," Dean laughs when they pull away, coming to another realisation. "Did you just turn _my own proposal_ around on me?"

Cas' expression would look impassive to the untrained eye, but Dean knows what to look for to find his amusement, wry and dry. "Like with everything else, we might as well take turns," he says very reasonably, and very suggestively, in his own way.

"Jesus, you're the worst," he says, smiling into Cas' lips. But before he looses his train of thought in the heat and wetness of Cas' mouth, in the way his hands grip at his sides and the way his back bends beneath Dean's own searching fingers, Dean thinks he's also kind of the best.


End file.
